


It

by Abstracttheworld



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dubcon(?), Eggs, Feral Trolls, Knotted bulges, M/M, Pet Trolls, Xeno, selfcest, two brats get it on, well first he like ew then he like yes plz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 09:48:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2383847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abstracttheworld/pseuds/Abstracttheworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Eridan takes people's requests for him to go fuck himself too literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It

**Author's Note:**

> Wow okay golly first time writing for Eridan and it's something like this-welp. Gift fic to the wonderful Dirtyratchet on tumblr! Inspired by her work here ( http://dirtyratchet.tumblr.com/post/98070485371/he-ll-yes-hell-fucking-yes-oh-my-god ). vuv Hehe I sent that ask and was like YESSS PETTROLL LOVER and she did that which made me want to do this hnng. Anywho, enjoy!  
> 1/7/18 edit: Hey guys! I'm glad folks still enjoy this piece years later, but sadly the art that it was inspired by has been deleted by it's creator. Just wanted to let ya'll know to save you the trouble of going on an archive dive.

You swear you would muzzle the damn thing if It wasn't able to chew through everything including your favorite fucking wands.

Your name is Eridan Ampora and you are currently wrestling one of your favorite fake magic wands from your freaky alternate universe self. You refused to call It you, just It.

You only want It to let the thing go because it is an excellent example how people indulge in stupid articulate designs on things that really don't need to be anything more than a stick and It's leaving teeth marks all over the pattern that huge douche.

"Let go you mongrel!!"

It does not, and only growls and flares It's fins at you while digging It's claws into your nice floorboards in an effort to not give in.  
You do it right back in a (inwardly stupid oh my god why is this even happening to you) attempt to subdue It.  
When that doesn't work either you finally let go and let the dumb beast land back on It's ass then watch It trot off to It's preferred corner in a blatant display of 'haha I won'.

You groan in frustration and throw yourself angrily into your desk chair. You would have performed this action into your nice pile if some undesirable little shit hadn't dismantled it to make Its own.

The dumb thing drops the gnarled and slobbery stick into the pile with the others without even considering where it would fit nicely. The absolutely animal.

Why do these things happen to you? You're a good troll! ...Okay so you killed the only other troll that really meant something to you and a jadeblood that put up with your bullshit for a while. And routinely contemplated and attempted to start mass genocides on your planet's population. And destroyed the matriorb that could have saved your race should your team (ex-team) ever manage to finish the stupid game.

...

Whatever this is still the most ridiculous thing that has ever happened to you.

You were casually minding your own business, brooding in your bubble-hive, when this monstrosity appeared in it without so much as a knock on the door. You might have shrieked and climbed up on your wardrobifier for safety, but goddammit you'd like to see anyone not lose their shit when an unknown beast that only vaguely resembles them appears in their room.

From what you gather (from the sad excuses populating these bubbles) your local bubble chain collided with another one from an alternate universe (temporarily, you pray) where...apparently your species didn't evolve all the way or did so differently or something? You sort of tuned out once the hellbeast started nosing around your stuff and you had to go rescue one of your items of clothing from It's evil jaws. It didn't go well. Firstly It didn't want to let that go either and secondly It quickly became more interested in jumping you to scent you or something equally as beastly. Whatever. You guess even if It is a dumb animal It noticed that you two look...alike, and that you probably have much more similar scents (minus yourself having the nasty nature smell, ugh, gross take a fucking bath).

After that it was basically just you trying to keep It from taking and ruining all your things. So far It has been winning. Fuck your afterlife.

You glare at the damn thing's back while It sniffs and nudges around It's ~precious new pile~ of your valuables. It's the weirdest damn thing you've ever seen. It's legs are all bendy in ways they should not be and seems not to be able to stand them straight, It has a long fat protruding tail with a tail-fin not unlike that of dolphins at the end, It has fins lining It's gills at It's sides and two on It's head to match your own. It's hair is unkempt but It still has the same streak at the front like you do. It has a barkbeast like muzzle, not quite as long or protruding but its there. Where hands would be It's got...well, paws, but not really? They seem to be able to bend and move like hands, but the toes are just nubby little things that barely remind you of fingers. It's claws are dark and thick unlike your own flat and trim set that are a clean, healthy yellow. The entirety of It seems to have little to no fur, not that you've touched the thing enough to tell for sure, but if there is any its not visible at a glance.

It's fin twitches and It looks back at you. You flick your head away with disdain, not even trying to hide that you were looking. Let the thing think you were looking and was disgusted by what you saw of It. Which you were. Nasty filthy imposter.

It snorts at you which doesn't make you any more willing to look back. You turn your head towards the other side of the room and plop your chin down on your arms to sulk for a bit about how awful your not-life is. Even when you're dead it has to make things worse! Maybe this is your punishment for killing a life player. Sigh.

There is a quiet crunch of wood and some plastic then a sigh. You don't look.

There is silence for a bit, you are grateful. You are also bored.

You raise your head silently and look over at the creature.

It's flopped over It's pile- YOUR STUFF- and is facing the wall with It's tail tucked against It's hind legs. Maybe It's asleep? Maybe now would be a good time to steal back your shit.

You be your stealthiest as you stand and push your chair back, all too glad you eventually settled on the roll-y kind, and toe your way over to It's gross saliva damp pile.

You can smell It's gross breath from here, ugh.

You lean over It to check to see if It's asleep; you can't get a look at It's eyes at this angle but oh well, It's not moving. You're not really concerned with being bitten, it's not like It can kill you again if It wakes up angry. 

Speaking of angry, you now know why It chose this spot for It's pile. It's got It's ugly mug laying on the cuttle plush (she called it a 'cuttledud') Feferi gave you ages ago when you guy's were still...well...

You snarl at the beast and It turns It's head to peek an annoyed eye at you. You reach down (teeth be damned) and snatch the thing right from under It's head.

"First a' all where do you get off takin' all my shit, second off don't you fuckin' DARE touch this!" You brush whatever nasty contaminants It surely got on it.  
You remember when you and she had exchanged presents when you both became official moirails. She made this for you, a plush resembling herself, she said she had one like you to keep for herself...You think you gave her some dumb wand you thought was the best damn thing you found at the time, for scientific proof of it's own nonsense of course. You were so stupid.

The damn thing starts to rise like It intends to fight you, then seems to give up halfway and flops back down in upset. You eye It warily. Even when It's being quiet It's annoying...

It whimpers unhappily. You frown deeply.

No. It's not you, not even slightly so. Fuck what everyone else said. This thing is about as close to being you as you are to being your god awful dancestor.

It makes a noise. You know that noise. You've made that noise on many occasions.

Come to think of it...If there was a you in that other universe (even though It isn't you), that means there was another Feferi too...Maybe It misses It's Feferi?

...Goddammit.

"Look just because you miss your world's Fef, doesn't mean you get to steal my shit a' my own world's Fef."

It seems to shrug you off with a sigh through It's weird untrollish nose.

Fuck. Is this what you look like when you sulk? This disgracefully pitiful? It's obscene.

You scowl and flop down at the edge of the pile (like fuck you're going to touch that nasty shit, it's not even worth salvaging) and fold your arms, captchaloging the plush to keep it away from your alternate.

"I get it okay. I bet she hates you platonically in your world too, yeah?"

It only spares you a glance and another sad sniff.

You sigh and gingerly pat It's hip (you're not touching It's flank and It's sides are too far away from where you sit), "Don't worry, it doesn't get any better."  
It looks at you with a vaguely confused look and you realize how dumb you are trying to comfort your animal alternate. It probably doesn't even understand what you say.

You take your hand away and scowl away at nothing exactly, just wanting to internally berate yourself for being a fool.

And then you feel something slobber up half you face.

You squawk and lurch away. The beast licked you! It seemed awfully pleased with Itself too. Damn It.

"Please, for all that is sacred, don't thank me." You say as you get up and exit to your abulutionblock to wash your face clean of alternate slobber. Would these even count as your own germs? You don't care, still revolting.

By the time you come back more than half your own pile that you had neatly tucked against a corner of the wall is missing- this time all your scarves are gone.

You look over at the beast laying comfortably atop your good cashmere scarves, some broken wands stabbing at the fabric. Gee, what a way to thank you for your earlier comforting. Rude.

You huff and stomp over to rest against your cushioned reclining platform and pull your grubtop from the seat into your lap to look at old files of history articles you've already read hundreds of times.

You're undisturbed for all of two minutes before you hear a not-quite whiny chirping coming from the other side of the room.

You look up over the top of your screen at your unwanted guest who is currently clearly less than pleased you're all the way over here. You snort and look back at your screen.  
Your second round of peace doesn't last even as long as the first before a big annoying brat trudges It's way over to you and proceeds to nearly knock your grubtop right off your lap as It flops down against your thigh and hip- It's tail draped offensively over your forearms.

"Could you fuckin' not?"  
It ignores you and decides to take a nap. You growl and shove It's tail off your hands- It replaces it under them, fine, that you can at least scroll with.

Finally you can get back to your reading. It truly takes a skilled and focused connoisseur of history to plow through stories like these with the complicated motives, difficult battle strategies and classic weapon references.

A few more pages later and you reach the part where the protagonist depicts his most recent red fling (that caused a small war of course) in vivid detail.

You're reminded you have a...'guest' with you, but surely It can't even read...and you'd miss great plot of the war if you skipped it...You'll just...you'll just skim it.

A third of a paragraph in and you're suddenly very aware that the creature next to you is, or is supposed to be, a troll and is also naked. Well, not entirely you suppose. You recall earlier when you ...petted It, that you felt small dense fuzz on It. It was very smooth and soft, but definitely more than you have on your own body. You suppose going around in the nude requires built-in warmth keepers.

You look down at the tail in your lap and don't subtly rub the side of your hand against It to test the fuzz once more. The creature doesn't respond.

You go back to reading and only sort of regret it when you have to stretch your legs out in front of you to press and hold your sheath closed, it works, but just barely. Your nook however...well, ghost clothes fix themselves anyway.

The beast beside you raises It's head and you focus your eyes on nothing in particular on the screen, intent to ignore what ever It's looking at you for.

Surprisingly, It shifts off you, tail sliding out from under your forearms (and only a little over your crotch, hnn).

It stops moving in your peripheral and you reluctantly look over at It.  
"What?"

It invades your space without even a blink and noses at your face- ew okay It's nose isn't damp but the texture is weird. Not quite leathery but not like skin either. Like...cool swede.  
You push at It and It huffs against your face (ew) and noses at your collarbone and chest next. It steps on your thigh as It presses closer and you yelp a bit from the pressure of leg and claws, ow. It only takes one more less than gentle nudge before you lose your balance trying to move around the beast and only just save your grubtop from crashing off your lap to the floor as you topple over.  
You're angry until you feel your alternate shift again and press sniffs to your pants, then you're just mortified.

You look down and embarrassedly push at It's head to shoo It away while It frowns and clicks at you (more at your crotch) while It's not-paw scratches at your clothes.  
Oh, right, ancient trolls probably needed keen senses of smell and right now you bet you smell rather nice to It. It's also probably confused about why It can smell you but can't get to you. Hah. Superiorly evolved world dumbass.

It doesn't seem discouraged and for a moment you're afraid It's just going to angrily take a chunk out of your privates (ghost or not it'd still hurt like fuck), but no It just catches the, admittedly, damp(ish) fabric around your groin and starts biting and tearing at it. You're afraid for a bit longer when you realized your bulge got free when you fell and is actively writhing around under the damaged fabric. It clicks again and presses a hand-paw to your thigh while It tears your pants.

It's only when you feel the first twinge of cool dry air on your skin that you remember that this should not be happening and get your head back to start pushing roughly at It to get the damn thing to stop. It finally backs off and you scramble to get on your feet, grabbing the grubtop as you do and perching it back onto the platform. You kneel while you rush to try and locate someone who you could explain your situation to without double dying of embarrassment who could give you advice for how to make It stop.

Your hands stutter on the keys when you feel that strange swede nose press to your ass and sniff. You freeze as It scents your whole backside. Everything down there is too active and sensitive and you can just feel every little puff of air and nudge too much. Its worse when It starts tearing another chunk out of your pants and you can feel soaked you are, everything feels too cold on your nook. You're sure you must be exposed now and it's confirmed when It noses against you and It keens and breathes you in.

It suddenly backs off and you brave a look back at It- your stomach twists in a way you're not sure you dislike when to see It shifting around on It's feet, a bright violet bulge sticking out from where was once just smooth fuzz. It looks slick but weirdly doesn't move.  
You look just below it and see flushed violet lips of a nook, just lightly parted and dripping. You press your thighs together at the sight and flinch at the wet squelch when your own nook gets pressed shut and squishes out more slick.  
It seems enticed by the movement, as if it was an invitation, and advances on you. It scrambles It's top half onto you and fuck dammit It's mounting you. You almost fall under It's weight, damn heavy thing.

You know what It intends to do and you're a little more than panicked when you feel your nook restlessly tensing around nothing in anticipation. You can't help it, acknowledging that you aroused It is weird and exciting and god dammit why is it now someone has to be interested in you? You're turned on and have turned on yourself- even though It's not you and It will never be you and- and you lose that train of thought because It presses It's weird unyielding bulge against your nook and is breathing heavily against your fin.

You brave yourself, who better to handle you than almost-you?

The little comforting sentiment dies as soon as It presses inside. It makes little chirping noises and readjusts as It inches into you, the unfamiliar feeling of being stretched open by something you don't control for the first time is discombobulating. It's like watching a horror flick and you know something is going to happen and even as you're afraid of it you want so badly to see it through.

You do see it through as It thrusts the rest of Itself into you and you get out a choked groan through It's own joyful yelp.

You're full of not-troll dong and stretched wider than you're used to and it's so hard to think like this that all you manage to do stare at the back of the reclining platform with your mouth open for moans to escape.

You're relieved a little when the stiff rod in you slips back a good amount, then get your brain disrupted all over again when it's slammed back into you.

The little retreat, pause and thrust is repeated several times until you feel yourself relax into the motion and It fucks you nice and steady. It's almost nice, like rocking waves, only each one is punctuated every time It's tip knocks into your seedflap. The little jolt isn't unpleasant, but still strange to you. Your bulge is left to curl angrily against the fabric of the platform.

It is panting and occasionally flicks It's tongue out against your horn or fin as It moves. You would almost find this gesture nice, if it weren't for the slobber.

It's starting to feel good and you unskillfully bump your hips back toward the other and moan out. You're ready for more, come on! you can take it. This seems to encourage It and It croons for you and picks up the pace- a bit more than you were expecting. The force of It's movements rocking you forward just short of having you headbutt your screen.  
The wet slap of skin is loud and embarrassing but who else is here to hear? To know that you're taking your alternate's freaky bulge like a horny beast?

You grin to yourself and revel in the pleasure building inside you. God, you want it. Your legs wobble and you swear you feel like you could drop any second but two firm, fuzzy limbs rest around your hips, effectively holding you up.

You're soaked down to the torn fabric on your thighs and already fuck drunk and you're going to blow your load while your weird feral alternate fucks you up the wall.

"Fuck, yes, goddammit I-I need it, more!" You know your talk is lost on It and you don't care. Your eyes are squeezed shut and shit okay maybe you're drooling a little now too while you pant but you're smiling with your tongue stuck out stupidly and you don't care.

You cry out for more still and It whimper-keens at you and speeds up.

You begin to chant a single affirmation of your pleasure as your nook clenches up tight and holds and- "FUCK!" your toes arch up off the floor as you cum, material splattering to the floor from your nook and bulge.

Your head doesn't quite hurt yet but your body is exhausted.

It doesn't stay still, shifting around still hard and thick inside you and your swear loud and long when you feel your still aftershock-fluttery nook being stretched wider and wider. It stings and tears prick your eyes.

It stills for a moment and you're not sure what to do- you try clenching down around It but there isn't any room left, all it does is make It whine low. There is still, painful silence for a few seconds, then It rocks slowly and you scramble for purchase on the platform when the motion drags you back away from your perch. You feel plugged on It's bulge and unsure of what to do until It's bulge stretches again- only this time it carries it down towards the end of It and- oh.  
It bucks hard into you and stays, gently nudging against you more while that thick lump presses slowly up your nook and you feel your body turn to jelly when it presses insistently against your seedflap. After the beating it took before it's already dilated to take someone's material to hold until a bucket is ready- it's not designed to take something solid! With a few more nudges, it does all the same.

You breath heavily as you feel the weight settle inside you. It's not as heavy as you would think someone's load of material would be...That does not bode well for you.

You can feel a second lump on it's way into you and you clench your fists as it passes from It into you. The process is repeated four more times and you think somewhere in there you came again, dry, but now you're more than exhausted and your flap feels heavy with the solid weight. You're not sure how to get them back out. You resolve to panic about that once you're not sore and over-sensitive to even a breeze.

Finally It's bulge shrinks and slips away and It dismounts you.

It walks around you several times, seeming pleased with Itself and clearly not getting why you are not. It looks back at the pile It made earlier, then you, then bites the collar of your unharmed shirt to pull you towards it.

You irritatedly swat at It enough for It to let go and weakly make your way to the pile on your (surely bruising) knees. It follows you and flops down before you with an expectant look. You're too tired to yell at It's stupidity so you flop down with it (ow, stomach, solids...) and let It nestle up close. It licks at you (grooming?) and you drift off into a sore, exhausted, but sated sleep.


End file.
